


Four times Ford ignored the picture, two times it helped him, and one time it helped Stan

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Ford misses his brother, Gen, How did this turn into a memory loss fic, I can't stay mad at you now, aaaaahhhhh never mind, confused owl, first Ford centric fic, give it up already you miss Stan, glares at Ford, he'S in denial though, he's so hard to write gaaaahhhh, i tried so hard, it turned into sad Stan, nothing major, sees Ford giving Stan hugs, sees fluffy hair, sighs, slight angst, too many tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6471325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based upon the fact that Ford had the picture that showed up in Weirdmaggedon 3 in the portal. </p><p>Drabble-y.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four times Ford ignored the picture, two times it helped him, and one time it helped Stan

The first time Ford found it, he was rummaging through old childhood mementoes in a rundown cardboard box. He frowned when he came across an old worn photograph. It was yellowed with age and dogeared.

The date was scribbled on the back in his mother's handwriting, _1967_.

Ford turned the picture over and he smiled sadly at the sight of the Stan O' War and the two twins. He caught himself reminiscing about those hot New Jersey summers. They had been the best years of his life.

His brows furrowed in sudden anger.

Best years of his life?

These were the best years of his life!

He was doing everything he wanted, researching anomalies, discovering new creatures, documenting mysteries....

Ford quickly closed the box and shoved it back in the corner of the attic.

Only when he had stomped down the stairs did he remember that he was still holding the picture. Ford shoved it in his pocket, telling himself that he'd put it away later.

He never did.   
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When Ford found it again, he was digging through his pockets for anything that would help him survive in this alien dimension. Everything unnecessary went.

Used tissues, pocket lint, ooh- pocket knife.

Then he saw it, a piece of paper folded neatly in half. Ford picked it up and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases.

Anger surged through him and Ford scowled angrily had the picture.

There he was and Stan proudly grinning from atop the deck of the Stan O' war. This was not the right time to see his brother grinning happily back at him from the past.

Ford was tempted to crumple it into a ball and chuck it out with the trash but for some reason he impulsively stuck it between the pages of a spare notebook before sticking that back in his pocket.

He couldn't quite figure out why he was so reluctant to let the photograph go. Stan had always been a deadweight, he could see that now. Stanley had always been writing off his coattails and getting in the way from the very beginning.

So why couldn't he let go?  
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The third time Ford took out the picture he was hiding in a hole from an alien. A alien with three heads and poisonous breath. He was stuck there for hours before the thing finally left.

When it did, he rested his head back against the wall he'd been crouched by and sighed in relief. He'd then opened his small black notebook to scribble down information about the creature.

Ford felt like he'd been blindsided when he saw himself and his twin grinning like they were twelve again.

Thirty six hours without sleep had him sitting there staring at the photo, almost smelling the salty air, feeling the sand in his shoes, and clutching his brother's hand.

When the leaves beside him rustled, however, Ford jumped. He'd let himself get distracted, he could've died in the space he'd been dreaming about his stupid childhood.

Ford rubbed his eyes and he tried to pretend that his six fingers hadn't come back wet. He could rest when he found somewhere safe to sleep.

He was never safe though.

Ford tried and successfully ignored the fact that the only time he'd ever felt truly safe and protected was when his brother stood over him, defiant against the bullies in front of them.  
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Ford was sorting through his pockets again, digging out stuff he didn't need anymore now that he was back in his home dimension. He smiled slightly when he saw the little black notebook. He'd scribbled information about everything in it, and it had saved his life many times.

That was when something fell out of it. Ford picked up the worn scrap of paper and turned it over.

He remembered this picture. Ford felt that he could throw it out now. Stan had now betrayed him several times over.

Sure, he'd 'rescued' him... when he'd explicitly told him not too. This had endangered the entire world! Stan had also stolen his name, his identity, and his home.

Stanford placed the picture on the desk. He had nothing more to say. He could gladly get rid of it and not feel a thing.

Somehow it ended up in his jacket and for the life of him, Ford couldn't remember when he'd put it there.

But he was so glad it there when he found it again.   
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The kids were in bed, snoring softly, as the house creaked and groaned. Ford turned to Stan eagerly but his brother held out his hand, "I'm sorry, I uh, still don't know who you are.

Ford paused and mentally berated himself. Of course his brother wouldn't remember who he was! Ford wasn't in any of the pictures of the scrapbook.

Ford rummaged in his pockets for anything and his fingers found a folded piece of paper. He took it out and found the photograph taken when they were kids.

"Here, Stanley, this is... This might help."

Stan took it and squinted at the paper, "Who are this kids? And why do they have a boat that's never gonna sail? Though I have to admit, it looks pretty... Pretty..."

Ford clasped his hands nervously.

"Pretty..."

"Stan?"

Stanley looked up at his twin before asking hesitantly and in disbelief, "S- Sixer?"

Ford grinned and wrapped a tight hug around his brother as Stanley finally remembered.

Stan hugged back.  
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The sixth time, Ford pulled out the picture and asked his brother tentatively if he still wanted to go sailing around the world with him.

He thought it was most appropriate to use that picture. It was a symbol of their innocent childhood hopes and dreams.

Stan had grinned excitedly in reply.

Ford pretended not to see that his twin pocketed the picture.   
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Stanley was standing in the side of the Stan O' War muttering to himself as he looked at something small clasped in his hands.

Ford came closer and he began to make out what his brother was saying. When he made it out, it was extremely worrisome.

_"My name is Stanley Pines. I am fifty-seven years old. I live on a boat... The Stan O' War... This is my twin brother Stanford Pines. Sixer."_

"Stanley?"

Ford put his hand on Stanley's shoulder, "Stan? What happened?" Then he saw what Stanley was holding. It was the picture of them as twins, grinning from the deck of the first Stan O' War.

It was helping Stan remember.

Stan finally looked up and squinted his eyes, "Sixer?"

Ford hugged him, "Yeah, Stan it's me. I'm here."

And Stan was alright. Not great, but alright. They could work with that though. They would manage as they always would now.

Together.


End file.
